Stockholm, Sweden

or: You Pay the Price with Cheap Tickets

I must admit, not the best of my European travels...
Let my preface this by saying that I had a great time in Stockholm. It's a really incredible place, and I'm only bitter because we didn't have enough time to fully enjoy all the city has to offer. It should also be noted that I was recovering from being sick, which probably took it's toll on myself and my perception of the trip.
With that said, this trip allowed me to witness first hand the double-edged nature of cheap plane tickets.
The flight was booked through Ryanair, who had tickets for about 4o pounds. It could be said that this low price is what prompted my roommate's interest in Sweden in the first place. So we, including Sarah and Lauren (a few of our esteemed housemates), purchased the tickets. We didn't mind that we'd get to Sweden some time in the evening on Friday. and we didn't mind that we'd return close to midnight on Sunday. From now on, I'm going to mind.
Cheap tickets in Europe seems to imply remote, inconvenient airports. Sansted, the airport we left from, really isn't in London. I had dealt with Sansted for our Nice trip, and knew that it takes four or five hours to get there by bus. So we left at 4:AM to get to there with enough time to go through security for our 1:30 flight. When we got to the airport in Sweden, we took an hour-long bus ride to Stockholm. When we got to Stockholm, we found our hotel and checked in. By this time it was about 5:ish, not giving us much time for any activities. We were also incredibly tired after spending a full day traveling. So we got food, explored for a while, and went to bed.
The next day was great. Our hotel was nicer than we expected, and they had an adorable breakfast buffet for us in the morning. The location was great as well, we were walking distance from their "T-Central," a large subway stop. So we took the subway to their "old town," which is actually a little island south of the main part of Sweden. We walked along the boardwalks, fed some ducks and geese, saw some great old buildings and crooked streets with tiny shops. We then found our way to the Royal Palace, which their royalty doesn't live in anymore, but sometimes they use it for special occasions. We got half-price student tickets (65 cronar, which equals about fifteen dollars?), and got to walk through all their impressive halls, filled with gilded furniture, old portraits in lavish sitting rooms, and one crazy throne. Unfortunately, no photography allowed.
Sweden is weird. The people are all incredibly fashionable. I feel like if you ever want to get a feel of what the current "trends" in fashion are, just go to Sweden, and everyone is wearing it. I saw countless skinny jeans, striped shirts, fake vintage shirts that are somewhere between pop and punk, and dark hues of black and brown outerwear. The girls all seem to rock the "oh, I guess I'll do something with my hair this morning, gee, it just happens to look really great, not that I care at all" look. And yes, it's true what they say: an alarming percentage of Swedish girls are painfully attractive.
That evening, we went to Pizza Hut. Yes, we're "those" Americans. But a Pizza Hut in Europe is equivalent to a CPK in the states, it's a pretty nice sit-down restaurant. Our waiter was baffled that we decided to visit Sweden of all places. "No one likes it here," he said, "Sweden, they hate their own people, man." This seemed to be a theme, actually.
Later, we went to a bar called "The Viper Room." I befriended a Swedish guy sitting next to me named Nicholas, probably in his late twenties, and he told me a lot about the place. He says the Viper Room is where lots of girls go when they turn eighteen to have their first drink, and where guys like him go because the drinks are cheap. He also told me that we were clearly American. I asked him what I would have to do to look Swedish. "Well, you know the Swedish are known for being fashion, for being fashion-able..." I was about to be offended, but he continued, "but what you wear, it is good. You look like an American skater." Nope, still a bit offended. "But it is not the clothes, you can just tell! And these girls you're with, are they having a good time? They are pretty, but they look so American!" However, this doesn't at all mean that the Swedes put themselves on a pedestal above all others. My friend thought we were crazy for visiting Sweden, he just thought it wasn't worth it. "I want to get out of here, I don't like the cold. It's too much." When I told him I was from California, he was even more baffled. "Why would you leave? It is my dream to go there! Do you see the movie stars?"
Nicholas was a silly guy, and I had fun talking to him. I joined his friends with some goofy dancing to a Grease medley, and he'd roll his eyes every time a techno song came on. "I hate this song, it makes my ears, I just...I want to kill them." He explained to me that it was a song about an expansion to the computer game World of Warcraft. Really. I was surprised to find that everyone in the bar knew the lyrics and sang along.
Another cultural experience: Nicholas offered me some tobacco, to "dip" with him. Ground up tobacco was neatly packaged in tiny tea-bag looking things, that you stick between your lip and gums. He told me you leave it for anywhere between 3o min to a half hour, but after about fifteen minutes I got an intense buzz, followed by wooziness, and then nausea. So I chucked it.
Then he showed us the downstairs area, which was a legit dance floor. I'm still kicking myself over the fact that I didn't take a chance and try to dance with a Swedish girl. But they're so damn attractive, it's intimidating. It's really not fair. So I danced a bit with my friends, and with my new friends. In Europe, you're in trouble if you're a homaphobe, and there's really nothing wrong with dancing with your guy friends. Thankfully, some things are universal...these guys did what I usually do on the dance floor: purposefully look ridiculous.
The next day, we went shopping. I wasn't crazy about the idea, but that's what happens when you travel with girls. And with my roommate. Also, I had suggested a couple museums earlier, but that's not really what they're into. Later, we wanted to see an old viking ship, but because of our terrible flight plans, we really didn't have much time to do anything. So we walked around Old Town for a while again, and found a neat little Medieval Museum. It was actually inside some underground tunnels that were once part of some ancient structure. There will be photos up soon...
We then took a bus to the airport. We didn't get back to London until close to midnight, which meant there were no buses or trains going to Bath. The next bus was at 5:30, so we slept in the airport. Apparently, this is a pretty common practice, common enough to give the airport the nickname "Hotel Sansted." There were people sprawled out everywhere in the main arrival/departure sitting area, camping out and taking up all the good couches and seats. So we found our own little corner and curled up for a couple hours. We got back home around 11:AM, with enough time for me to shower and do some homework before class.
I'm not a fan of that mode of travel. It really wears you out, and your moral and sleep pattern takes a beating. It almost overshadows the awesomeness of the trip. Maybe with better traveling times we would have had a few more hours in Sweden to do more great things. It might have been worth ten or twenty pounds. The moral: even though you can get cheap tickets, you end up paying for it in different ways. Now I know, first hand.